


Snapshots

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Series: Cris + Leo + Ney [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Argentina National Team, Brazil National Team, Colombia National Team, Copa América 2015, Drabble, FC Barcelona, FIFA World Cup 2014, Football | Soccer, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Real Madrid CF, Shorts, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories taking place in my threesome verse. Should read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3699755">Five Times Neymar Walked in on Them & One Time He Finally Joined In</a> before this.</p><p>First up, 'Time Does Not Heal All Wounds.'</p><p>New tears are appearing as fast as Cristiano wipes the old ones away, while Leo grits his teeth and shakes. "I'm not, Cris," Leo says, "I'm not okay." His hands fist into Cristiano's shirt, while he turns his face into Cristiano's neck. "I don't understand," he says wetly, voice muffled. "Why, why, why?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

> Short stories taking place in my threesome verse.
> 
> Everyone and their mother has written a story about Leo after the Copa América loss, so here's my version.

"I'm not going to make it," Neymar says angrily. "Flights are grounded everywhere. By the time I'm able to get out of here you guys aren't even going to be in Chile anymore." 

Cristiano closes his eyes in frustration. He wants to say that Neymar should have already been here, that he should have stayed after the whole mess with Colombia. But he knows how hurt Neymar was, how helpless he was, how the only thing he could do was get out of there as quickly as possible. And as for why Neymar didn't come to Cristiano in the first place, he's not sure... He just knows it's something he's going to have to address in the future. But now's not the time. "Okay," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm at the hotel, so I should go." He takes a deep breath. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Neymar curses. "Yes," he replies sullenly. "Can you--can you give him a kiss from me?" 

Cristiano pinches his nose harder. Because he's not sure Neymar really understands how bad this is, how big a deal this is for Leo, how wrecked Leo is going to be. "Of course," Cristiano finally says, not knowing if he'll be able to, but certainly willing to try. And when Neymar thanks him and says goodbye, Cristiano hangs up and knocks on the unassuming door in front of him.

Sergio Agüero's eyes are red and watery when he opens it. He looks exhausted, forehead creased in pain, and is physically sagging in the doorway as he shakes his head at Cristiano. But he grits his teeth, biting back something sharp, and beckons Cristiano inside. "I'm glad you're here," he mutters instead, closing the door softly behind them and bolting it.

Cristiano pulls off his sunglasses and sticks them into his pocket. "Is he--what--," he starts, not sure what to say. The problem is that there isn't anything to say. There's nothing that can fix this. Nothing that he can say or do that will help. He tears off his cap and runs fingers nervously through his hair. "How is he?" 

Sergio's saved from answering by the sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom. The door is ajar and Cristiano watches as Sergio brushes by him, pushing the door open and returning to where he obviously had been before answering the door. The smaller man sits on the edge of the tub, hand settling on the back of Leo's neck.

The man in question is curled around the toilet, body wracked with sobs, hands covering his eyes as he heaves over and over again. "Kun," he says, gagging, bracing himself with his elbows, "Was that--I thought...Kun--." He spits miserably, gulping in air as he struggles to speak.

Sergio's hand moves into Leo's hair trying to soothe him. He rakes his fingers through the short strands, combing them off Leo's neck. "Breathe, Leo." His other hand presses against Leo's forehead. "You gotta breathe." His gaze is pained as he flicks his eyes to Cristiano in the doorway.

"Kun," Leo gasps out, hands still covering his face. "I'm hearing voices," he says, sniffling. "There's something wrong with me--." He breaks off, dry heaving into the toilet again in between sobs. "There's so much wrong with me," he blurts out, crying. "I don't understand, I don't understand why. Why Kun, why?"

Cristiano can't watch anymore. He's beside Leo in a second, hands sliding up Leo's back. "You're not hearing voices, baby," he murmurs, rubbing gently. "I'm here." He leans in and kisses Leo's neck, despite the skin being clammy. "There's nothing wrong with you," he says, closing his eyes, knowing it's true. "You're just unlucky... You're so, so fucking unlucky."

Leo doesn't answer, doesn't react to Cristiano's voice, continues hanging his head, panting. Sergio gets up, reaching out to flush the toilet before heading to the sink. He wets two washcloths before returning, handing one to Cristiano while he wraps the other on the back of Leo's neck. Then he returns to sitting on the edge of the tub and holds his head in his hands.

Cristiano slings his arm around Leo's shoulders and turns him into his chest. "Come on now," he croons, "you gotta calm down." He rests the damp washcloth on Leo's forehead before prying Leo's hands away. Then he softly cleans Leo's face, passing the cloth over Leo's eyes and cheeks, followed by Leo's lips and chin. "You're okay, baby, you're okay." He rubs his hand up and down over Leo's arm, trying to make him relax.

New tears are appearing as fast as Cristiano wipes the old ones away, while Leo grits his teeth and shakes. "I'm not, Cris," Leo says, "I'm not okay." His hands fist into Cristiano's shirt, while he turns his face into Cristiano's neck. "I don't understand," he says wetly, voice muffled. "Why, why, why?"

Cristiano drops the washcloth onto the floor and hugs Leo tightly. His hand comes up to cradle Leo's skull, threading through Leo's dark strands and holding him close. "I'm sorry, Leo. It's not your fault. I promise it's not your fault." He looks over to where Sergio's still hanging his head. "It's neither of your faults," he says, stroking Leo's hair while Leo curls into him even more.

Sergio's head tips up, eyes brimming. He blinks and a tear escapes, sliding down his cheek. Sergio wipes it away angrily, looking away from Cristiano until he's staring at some point on the wall. His cheeks are flaming and he's obviously embarrassed. His fists clench at his sides.

Cristiano doesn't say anything. He turns his gaze back to Leo, continuing to move his hand through Leo's hair, carding through the sweaty strands carefully. Leo is finally beginning to settle, probably more from fatigue than from Cristiano's attempts to calm him. The smaller man continues to tremble, breath hitching, hands still holding tightly to Cristiano's shirt as his tears slow. The silence builds between them, and Cristiano's legs begin to get all tingly from the uncomfortable position on the floor. But he doesn't dare move.

Eventually Leo's tears run dry. "I just want to sleep," he mutters into Cristiano's neck, lips barely moving, and entirely worn out. He's docile as Cristiano helps him get to his feet. Sergio rises from the tub and hovers next to them, anxiously making sure the taller man doesn't drop Leo or bang his head against the sharp corner of the counter. The second washcloth falls to the tiled floor with a splat, but none of them bother to pick it up. When they're all standing, Leo sways a bit, but then stands upright. "I have to brush my teeth," he mumbles, not looking at either of them. 

Cristiano exchanges glances with Sergio, but when Leo's hand shoves against his chest lightly, Sergio tilts his head towards the doorway. Cristiano watches as Leo's fingers fumble with a toothbrush and aches to help him, but Sergio tugs on his sleeve and so he follows Leo's teammate out to the bedroom. 

Leo doesn't look up.

Cristiano waits a few steps away, out of sight, just in case he's needed. But he hears the running of the water, and then the sound of brushing, so he turns away towards Sergio.

The other man is facing the window and shaking his head. He pulls his shirt over his head, balls it up and then throws it across the room, mumbling something under his breath. "I'm just so... so fucking angry," he says, still facing away from Cristiano. He shakes his head again before turning around. "It's like the World Cup all over again."

Cristiano still doesn't know what to say. 

Sergio laughs bitterly. "Do you know? Somebody spit on him tonight as we were walking to the bus." His voice is soft, and Cristiano is barely able to hear him. "They screamed at him that he was worthless. Called him 'The Catalan' and said that he should go back to Spain because it's all he cares about...They turn on him so easily." He shakes his head again. "Their messiah one minute, and trash the next," he scoffs, kicking off his shoes and sinking onto one of the beds.

"They don't deserve him," Cristiano says, biting his tongue so he doesn't say anything he'll regret--wanting to say that he hates them all--but fully aware that Sergio is also Argentine, and there are still some people who appreciate Leo. In the end he says, "If they can't see what he gives, then they don't deserve him."

Sergio doesn't answer right away, probably because he agrees, and the two lapse into silence again. They listen to the sounds of Leo's brushing interspersed with running water, until eventually that too stops. Leo doesn't emerge, but they hear the clinking of a drinking glass and then the rush of the faucet again. "Are you--can you handle him?" Sergio asks, walking over to his suitcase. He digs around until he's holding a bottle of sleeping pills. He knocks two out and looks at Cristiano. "I won't take them if you need me," he says, crouching down with the bottle still open. "But," he says, looking away, "I don't want to dream."

Cristiano shakes his head. "Take them, if you need them," he says, watching Sergio's hand shake with exhaustion. Sergio nods in thanks, swallowing the two pills dry, before tucking the bottle back into his suitcase. "Um," Cristiano continues, "can I borrow some sweats though?" He hadn't given a thought to anything except for Leo, and as a result, only had the clothes on his back. He sets his sunglasses on the desk, next to where he'd thrown his hat, and pulls his keys and wallet out to join them.

Sergio raises an eyebrow and looks Cristiano over, for the first time noticing that the other man is without any luggage. "Sure," he says, brow furrowing. "They're gonna be short though," he says to himself as he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and tosses them to Cristiano. He strips his own track pants off, clearly planning to just sleep in his boxers.

Leo chooses that moment to exit the bathroom. He stares dully at the two of them, blinking slowly, eyes no longer teary but still full of pain. Sergio crosses the room to embrace him, wrapping his tanned arms around Leo's slim body and holding him tightly. Cristiano can't hear what Sergio whispers, but Leo's arms come up to hug Sergio in return and he kisses Sergio on the cheek. Sergio says something else, and then pulls back to kiss Leo lightly on the lips.

Cristiano feels like he should be jealous, watching Sergio, wearing only boxers, pressed up against Leo... Because Sergio's extremely fit--muscular in all the right places, tanned skin, white teeth, kinda cute if you like that puppy dog look (not to mention he's known Leo for years)--but, honestly, Cristiano isn't threatened. He bends down and strips off his jeans, tugging Sergio's sweats up over his boxer briefs and tying the string. They're definitely too short, looking like capris instead of pants, but Cristiano doesn't care. He turns his back to the couple to give them a moment, unbuttoning his shirt and then folding his clothes to set on the desk. 

Agüero's not his competition for Leo's affections, and never has been. He's just someone who truly cares about Leo--who loves him like a brother. And Cristiano knows Leo desperately needs more people who love him.

Sergio raises his voice. "Night, then," he says, dropping his arms from Leo and nodding at Cristiano as Cristiano turns around. He takes the bed closest to the bathroom, pulling the sheets down before climbing in and facing the wall.

Cristiano walks over to where Leo's still standing and takes his hand. "Bed?" he asks, linking their fingers together. Leo closes his eyes briefly and then opens them, squeezing Cristiano's hand and nodding. He doesn't meet Cristiano's eyes, instead staring at the floor.

Cristiano leads him to the bed, letting go of Leo's hand only to pull the tshirt over Leo's head and then Leo's track pants off his legs. When they're off, Cristiano goes to toss them across the room but Leo snatches the bundle from his hand. Cristiano looks at him puzzled, not understanding until he realizes Leo's staring at Argentina's crest on the shirt, thumb tracing the stars.

"It's like I have a hole here," Leo whispers as if in a trance, placing his other hand over his heart. "Like I'm bleeding, like they're digging into me... Right here," he says, rubbing his skin slowly. He continues to trace the stars. "I feel it here. Every day... And every time, *every time* I think it's healing, finally healing," he continues, "they rip it open again." His fingers begin to scratch at his skin and Cristiano is quick to grab his hand.

There aren't any words that Cristiano can say in response. 

Instead he bends his head and presses a kiss to Leo's chest, letting his lips linger over Leo's heart, feeling the blood pulsing beneath his skin as he slides his hands over Leo's bare back. Leo sighs, dropping the shirt on the floor and holding Cristiano's head against him. For a moment they just stand there, Leo's heart thudding beneath Cristiano's lips, both of them clutching the other.

Sergio's pills have worked quickly. His breathing has evened out into sleep, and it's the constant in and out whooshing of his breath that spurs Cristiano's thoughts. 

"You should sleep, Leo," Cristiano murmurs, pulling his head away after another soft kiss to Leo's chest. He leans around Leo and yanks the sheets down, fluffing a pillow before turning back and maneuvering Leo into bed. Leo goes willingly, eyes slitted open and staring at Cristiano. 

Cristiano turns off the lights and crawls into bed with him, ignoring a twinge of arousal that flickers up his spine as he covers Leo with his body, their bare chests pressing together. He drops another kiss onto Leo's cheek. "Sleep, baby," he says, moving to mold up against Leo's side, an arm and leg wrapping around Leo to hold him close.

But Leo doesn't close his eyes. "I changed my mind," he says. "I don't want to sleep." He rocks against the leg nestled between his thighs, pressing his rapidly hardening cock up against Cristiano. His face turns towards Cristiano and he parts his lips. "I don't want to sleep," he repeats, licking his lips. "Every time I close my eyes... I see that trophy." His hand clutches at Cristiano's neck. "Make me forget," he pants, "please make me forget."

Cristiano stares at his dark eyes, barely able to see his face. "Sweetheart," he murmurs, "you're tired." He strokes his fingers across Leo's cheek, and Leo closes his eyes at the touch. Cristiano wants to say that everything will be better in the morning, but he knows it won't be, so he can't bring himself to say it. Instead he smooths his thumb across Leo's lips.

Leo continues moving his hips. "I want you to fuck me," he says, not sounding tired at all. And Cristiano finds it hard to resist him, especially when he's moving hotly against him. 

"I don't have anything," Cristiano says, trying to soothe him, sliding his hand over Leo's hip as the smaller man continues to grind against him. "Just relax." As a last ditch effort, he says, "Sergio's right there, Leo." His cock is starting to respond, his body realizing that only a few layers of cloth separates him from Leo's.

Leo scoffs, "Kun took his pills, right? Then he's out." His hand clutches harder at the back of Cristiano's neck, as he wiggles, drawing Cristiano's hand down his belly and into his briefs. He groans as Cristiano's hand curls around his cock. "And I want it to hurt," he mutters angrily, squeezing Cristiano's hand around him, thrusting roughly, carelessly, sliding in and out of Cristiano's fist. "It's what I deserve..."

Cristiano pulls his hand back in frustration. He's reminded of another night, when Neymar was drunk out of his mind, writhing beneath him and begging for it. Leo whines and Cristiano kisses him on the cheek. "Too fucking bad, baby," he says softly, running his lips down Leo's neck, grazing the milky skin lightly. "If you want somebody to hurt you, then you'll have to find somebody else." He threads his fingers through Leo's hair and tilts his head back until Leo meets his gaze. "Because I love you. And I would never hurt you. You hear me, Leo?"

Leo's jaw is set. "If Neymar were here--," he starts, trying to pull his head away.

Cristiano cuts him off. "'If Neymar were here' what?" He doesn't let go of Leo's hair. "You think he'd hurt you?" He lowers his voice and growls into Leo's ear, "You think that boy would fuck you dry? You think he'd be able to cause you any type of pain?" He laughs. "Think again."

Leo tugs his head again, but Cristiano refuses to let go.

"And even if he did, if you think for one second," Cristiano continues, "one fucking second, that I'd let him...?" He bares his teeth. "Well, then, gorgeous. We have an even bigger problem than I thought."

Leo shuts his eyes, and when he opens them again, they're filled with tears. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, breathing heavily, cock still hard against Cristiano's knee.

"Do we, Leo?" Cristiano asks, letting go of Leo's hair and hovering over him. "Do we have a problem?" When Leo remains silent, eyes brimming and shaking until a tear trickles from the corner of his eye, Cristiano catches it with his thumb and wipes it away. "Because I don't think we do," Cristiano says softly. "I think you're tired. And you're upset." He bends down and kisses Leo's cheek again, trying to dry Leo's tears with his lips.

Leo's arms come up to wrap around Cristiano's neck, as if holding on for dear life. He tucks his face into Cristiano's neck, stifling a sob and shaking his head in agreement. His tears are hot against Cristiano's skin, but it's the pain that causes them that burns Cristiano.

And he would do anything to make them stop, to make Leo stop hurting.

So he lets Leo cry against his neck, lets Leo grind against him--cock hard and leaking--through damp briefs and the borrowed sweats. Leo's skin is slick with sweat, his bare chest sliding against Cristiano's, nipples tight with arousal. Cristiano braces himself on his elbows, fingers smoothing through Leo's hair, brushing it off his neck, playing with his ears and stroking his skin. When Leo finally spills between them, it's with a whimper, hands gripping Cristiano's neck so hard it hurts.

The smaller man's tears have slowed when Cristiano lifts his head to peer down at him. His lashes are still glistening, dark eyes wet as they blink up at Cristiano drowsily. Leo parts his lips and then closes them, trembling, hands still clutching at Cristiano. "Cris," he says hoarsely, swallowing hard. When Cristiano smooths a thumb across Leo's cheekbone, wiping away any lingering tears, Leo smiles up at him. "I love you," he says, letting go of Cristiano's neck and drawing a hand down Cristiano's chest.

Cristiano catches Leo's hand and brings it to his lips. "I love you too, baby," he says kissing Leo's palm. "So, so much." He drops Leo's hand to brush some of Leo's hair off his forehead. Then he leans down and places a gentle kiss as Leo closes his eyes. He breathes in Leo's scent before pulling back and cupping his cheek. "Okay, now?" he asks quietly.

Leo nods, blinking slowly. He pulls Cristiano back down to cuddle with him. "Okay," he repeats softly, as Cristiano's arms wrap around him and he turns into Cristiano's chest. "Okay." 

And maybe it's not totally true, but Cristiano smiles into the darkness, hand smoothing down Leo's spine. He kisses the top of Leo's head in contentment. "Okay."


End file.
